“It benefits you too, you know. For your wife and child to remain safe.”
“Yes, but I’m not doing this for me. I’m doing this for them. Because never again am I going to leave them unprotected simply because I’ve been too lazy to prepare for danger.”
Orion sighs, his age showing, if not in his unfairly sculpted features, then in the weariness he carries on his shoulders. I can’t help but think being cooped up in this dungeon hasn’t treated him well over the years.
Why is he down here again?
Oh. Right.
He told my father off after he practically banished Olwen. Makes sense, as Orion would have seen himself in a prodigy like my sister.
“Fine. If you won’t help me to save your princess and an innocent child—”
Orion opens his mouth to protest, but I won’t let him finish.
“Then perhaps you’d help me for your own selfish reasons.”
“I already told you I don’t want money.”
“I’m aware. Thankfully, I’m also aware of what you do want.”
Orion scowls. “And what is that?”
“Peace and quiet.” I offer him the kind of grin only a spoiled prince can perfect. “And until you train me, you won’t be getting any.”
The next day, I beat Orion to the sparring ring.
In fact, I’m so prompt, I’m already warmed up by the time he arrives.
Orion glowers at me, dressed in his training leathers.
He then proceeds to slam me in the chest with a vine.
CHAPTER 58
KIRAN
I reach inward, grasping desperately for my magic, for anything. Anything to help me burn this place, burn our home, to get to her.
To get to my wife.
But I’m grasping at the wind.
“No,” Fin says. “No, she was supposed to be at the Rip. How…”
She was with Lydia. She can’t be here, my mind tries to reassure me, but it’s Asha on that balcony, looking out upon the crowd with numbness written all over her lovely face.
Her perfect face.
On which Az has placed a mask.
It’s perfectly crafted to her features, a mask of ruby flames that traces the exact curve of her scars, down to partially covering her mouth. It’s only the unmarred side of her face that shows, the rest of it glistening with jewels.
That imbecile made her cover her scars.
The thought enrages me, though it doesn’t produce the fire I might have hoped.
Fin winces at the sight, jerking in his chair.
Our eyes meet one another, and something like kinship stirs between us.
The music begins, and it’s the same tune that played at my and Asha’s wedding.
I think I might be sick, but I can’t peel my eyes off her, try as I might to fight against my restraints, break my chair, anything.
Azrael takes Asha’s hands in his, and even from here, I can tell that she’s shaking. Shaking like how she was when she married me.
There’s no fire left in my veins, but smoke fills my lungs, suffocating me all the same.
They leeched my Flame, and I have nothing left to protect her.
The vizier begins the ceremony, except this time it’s a human script, one I’ve never heard.
The vows are more sentimental, less transactional.
At one point, Azrael promises his body to her, and I want to claw my ears out.
“Kiran,” Fin says, glancing at me. “We have to get out of here. We have to stop…” The words seem to fail him, disgust writhing on his features.
